Miracles Do Happen

 What shall I write about this fine day? Are you like me, having wonderful topics in your head all day long, but when you have the opportunity to sit down and write, you draw a blank?

The last couple of weeks have revolved around The Patient and his many needs. The weekend was horrible. He was having pain behind his knee. He was walking on his toes and gasping with every step. I found it to be incredibly annoying, I knew if he did not listen to me and stretch that muscle, he was in for a very long recovery. No pain pills left, relying only on Tylenol.

You know those charts on the walls of the hospital rooms with the illustrations of pain levels? They should be updated with pictures of the faces The Patient makes when he is in pain. Very graphic! Anyhoo, Monday morning, The Patient called to me from his bed. "Call Susan, I can't stand this anymore." he rasped out theatrically. 

"Is that your phone, right there next to you?" asked the caregiver. He looked confused until I said, "Her number is in your phone, so why don't YOU call her and treat her to your list of maladies?" Then he looked surprised, like the thought had never occured to him. Calling did not require him to get up and could be accomplished by the press of a button. I am sure he has her on speed dial. Do you think she might be regretting giving him her cell phone number, allowing him to by-pass the office?

She called back and told him to hang on until she could talk to Dr. Ross. Then I felt guilty, what if he has a blood clot? And I was not accomodating? I made sure he had his morning pills and a couple Tylenol before I headed outside.

Then I decided to work inside, so I could hear him. You might recall the kitchen project that involved removing the ceiling mounted light diffuser that took up two feet of space, making the already claustrophobic kitchen feel even smaller and robbing me of the shelf space above the cabinets. It has been over a year since the project got started. Very unsightly with raw edges and some support boards left at the top of the cabinets.

I decide to "do something" and began searching Pinterest for fixes. When sitting on the sofa, the first thing you see if you look away from the giant TV screen is the kitchen cabinets on the far wall and the raw wood with staples sticking out. I removed all the staples and pounded in some tiny nails that wouldn't budge. Then I measure it and cut out some cardboard. Two pieces that I hot glued together, then covered with some leftover wall paper that I put up on the wall of the dining side of the kitchen. It covered some tiny holes and bigger holes of the many attempts The Patient made while trying to "hit the stud" with a screw.

After I covered my free cardboard, I covered the raw wood. It looked okay, so I moved on to the exposed wall above the cabinets where I had crammed so many thing not used on a daily basis. This looked good and I didn't even match the pattern on the wall paper, since I did not have enough. But that left the vent pipe from the stove below still exposed. It was the ugliest part.

I had to leave the kitchen to think. I got involved in some dead-heading and gathering of seed when I was struck with inspiration. I even said "TADA" to the garden I was working on. It did not respond, just kept yeilding seed for next year.

I climbed the ladder once again and measured. The ceiling slopes, so it took several measurments. Then, the pipe is round, so I measured with my sewing measuring tape for the circumference. I had thought about a wallpaper covered "box" to go around it, but I used all the wall paper!

I measure out my cardboard and then dampened one side of it in order to peel back the thin layer and reaveal the corrugated ridges. Easier to do that I thought it would be. I used a cleaning rag to dip in the water and distribute dampness. Then I wrung out the rag and used it to brush away tiny bits of the paper that still clung. I rolled it into a circle and liked the way it looked. It needed paint. White? Beige? I surveyed all my choices and ended up with black chalkboard paint. 

I figured if I didn't like it I could simply paint over it. It was perfect. Not shiny, but a matte finish. It was an exercise in patience. Standing on the third step up I had a variety of tools up there with me. Scissors, a razor blade, and a knife, a screwdriver and a hammer. Sounds like a begining of a joke where all the components go into a bar .....

It worked after a lot of manipulation and I think it looks good. Of course after over a year of waiting for the promised "fix" that HeWho Knows What He Is Doing to happen, anything would be an improvement!

The consult with Dr. Ross had Susan calling back with instructions. The Patient was to elevate the leg and apply a heating pad. It was a miraculous remedy! Labor intensive for the caregiver (me). The Patient was worried about a heating pad. I know we have an electric one ..... somewhere. I also knew I was not going out to purchase another one when I could make one out of rice and a sock.

Later on I was coming back inside from something and noticed the heating pad and the small towel covering it on the floor with Eddie on top of it. The Patient felt better and didn't need it, so he just tossed it in the floor! You never toss stuff on the floor in the home of a dashchund! They will either adopt it, as their own; or annoint it with urine. My old guy, Oscar, was the champion of peeing on stuff that entered his domain without his permission.

The Patient is feeling much better and even drove yesterday! I was all set to drive him to Taco Bell to get his heart's desire, but he insisted he could drive with his left foot if his right leg wouldn't cooperate. This did not instill any confidence in my thoughts about him driving, but I decided to just let him do what he wanted. He made it home with his tacos. I crumbled one over a bed of lettuce and cherry tomatoes and had a fine meal.

Now, the day is beginning and I have a new project in mind. The tiny shed still houses quite a bit of stuff that needs to head uphill to the She Shed. My car is full of bins and boxes, waiting to go up the hill and be unloaded. Then, with everything out of the shed, I am going to try out this new paint sprayer and use my $15 oops paint to give the walls and ceiling a new clean surface. You may place your bets: Will The Parient be able to ignore his wife using a sprayer? Or ... will he suddenly throw down his cane and take over?